Art of War
by Autumn FireHeart
Summary: "You set out on a mission to get what you want, without knowing what it is at first." The elf stares down at the brooch in his hand. "Should you follow in the footsteps of Boromir? Join me." He extends a hand, but the elf shook it off. "You wanted the ring, but that will never happen," he took a step backwards. "because it was never yours to take." and he was gone. Legolas-centric


_**Warning : Spoiler. Make sure you've watched LOTR 2 : The Two Towers, and how Boromir died ;-)  
**_

_**Also, I'm writing based on the movie, not the book as I have not yet given the chance. =^_^=  
**_

* * *

_**The Art of War**_

_Legolas-centric_

by Autumnifre633

* * *

_All the best stuff might not come in your way, but it all depends on your point of view._

The sound of his footsteps echoes lightly on the snowy-white tiles of Thranduil's castle. He paces around the empty hall unnervingly, mentally rehearsing the conversation he so meticulously planned and plotted before he came to this scenery. A moment later, his pacing stops as he caught his own reflection on the ground. The palace of Mirkwood was anything but dirty - red curtains laced with gold that were washed weekly, window panels that were dusted every hour, even the ornaments weren't spared. The only thing that was left untouched was the king's specter, for the only reason that the king prefers cleaning it personally. It wasn't unusual for the elves, as they adored the tidiness and cleanliness of their own home. It was evidently one of their top priorities, next to politics, of course.

And that was the main reason Legolas came to visit his father.

He was surprised at first, when he found himself alone in the Great Hall of Thranduil. Sights like these came few and far between, but Legolas had never seen it happen on a weekday, when every decently high-ranked subject of his father should be undeniably on work routine.

"Good morning, Your Highness."

He tensed. Though a prince, Legolas was never used to the title. He turns on his heels and spotted a guard at the other end of the hall, probably running his shift. The young elf-prince rolls his eyes when he noticed who it was. "Langlas, please, just address me by name."

The other elf laughed good-naturally. "I wouldn't dare, not in here."

Legolas could feel the temptation to roll his eyes again, but he kept it in. "Where is King Thranduil and the rest of the court? Surely this day is not a public holiday; the hall should be filled with elves, definitely not empty."

Langlas blinked once, as he took a spot adjacent to the Great Door. "Oh," he huffed, as realization struck him. "Today is no holiday, your father have just called upon a meeting, but it hasn't yet started." When he saw the look on Legolas' face, another light-hearted laugh escape his lips. "I know your father may not be the best man to get along with, but at least you are." Then his gaze moved slightly next to him, and when they caught something behind him, Langlas frozed. Instinctively, Legolas spun around, and caught a flash of blond saturation of hair that matches his own.

Fortunately, the seemingly grumpy king have heard utterly nothing of what Langlas said about him, and Legolas was almost as grateful as Langlas was at the moment. Knowing his father, a simple, harmless criticizing was enough to precipitate a severely raging argument. And the last thing Legolas wants was hearing his father shout. His relationship with the King had never been very well, especially when he was always opposing everything his son does. Legolas knew all the talks that were going on about in Mirkwood, about him being the perfect prince, even when some came up untrue, it was never far from the truth. Even though being a percipient young prince, it was never easy to keep a lid on your temper all the time, especially when things go unreasonable. Never once he fails to receive compliments from everyone he met, he just couldn't see what his father _didn't _see in him.

His childhood days were filled with lessons - sword fighting, hunting, political classes, standards of ruling, a king, and many more too tedious to be course, Legolas disappointed his father in some of the courses, but King Thranduil wanted the perfect son. Legolas knew that wasn't wrong, but his father had missed the fact that no one was ever perfect.

When it comes to terms of social, Legolas hardly had any friends, for his father forbids him to leave the palace before he reaches a hundred. Soon silence became his only companion, and as years passed, interactions with the outside world became more and more inconsequential. The young prince knew his father loved him, considering he was Thranduil's only child, but as the king's love for him intensifies, it made him increasingly frustrated. And that's when the quarrels started.

"What do you have to report, my son?" his weary voice cracks.

Legolas felt his morale worsen at the authoritatively deep voice of his father, he has a good voice for a king, his voice met the standards of prominent-toned without having to shout. It has the power to boost the motivation of going-to-war soldiers from the scum of a river to the top of Mt Doom, but it was also enough to make you feel like dirt under a shoe.

"It's not a very delightful one." Legolas answered. His voice was soft, regardless the number of times he have rehearsed the speech in front of a mirror before he dared confront his father, it was still of no use.

"Go on." the disappointment in his voice barely veiled.

Legolas shut his saphire-blue eyes and inhales deeply. _Pull yourself together Legolas! _"I just received reports this morning regarding the escape of the creature Golumn." He finally said, and waited for two seconds, before his father thumped his scepter twice angrily.

_This had to come._

"_How_ did it occur? I've provide you the number of guards who far surpassed the power of the mutated hobbit. I've given you one of the most highest security of a prison. And you come with the news of _failure?_" Before the King could notice, he was already standing on his feet instead of sitting on his throne. His grey-eyes flared with anger that Legolas thought he had see flamed behind them. "You disgust me." he spat.

"That is all I have to say, aside from the news I am called to attend the council of Elrond this afternoon." Legolas said in disdain. He stood firmly rooted to the ground, trying to let his frustration evaporate.

By the time Thranduil have recovered enough to reply, a pint crowd of elves are already entering the hall for the incoming meeting regarding Mirkwood's currency. "Go," The King told his son, not wanting to humiliate himself in front of the court. "And make sure you don't do anything to deign a person of your status." he added before Legolas turned on his heel to leave the hall. "And mine."

The last sentence that broke his heart.

Just when he was almost outside the door, Legolas felt a hand on his shoulder. He tips his head sideways to see only Langlas. "Don't feel defeated my lord, you father loves you." He said sadly, yet it sounded comforting. "I know," Legolas smiled, "He just didn't know the way to express it. And I've been told far too many times than I can remember."

He left the older elf speechless as Legolas leap onto a horse and rode off towards the horizon. To Rivendell.

He never left more like wanting to leave home. He waved to the people and forced a smile as he rode for Mirkwood's gate, he could hear them shouting greetings to him, some were throwing flowers, others just cheered for the sake of their prince. But it all blended into a low, soft, fading mumbling as thoughts occupy his troubled mind. He wasn't in the best of moods, but the people were nothing to blame; if only they know under his charming and luxurious exterior of a prince, he was just another elf who longs for an ordinary life.

* * *

"And if we fail? What would happen if Sauron took back what was once his!?"

"I would be dead by the time I see it in the hands of an elf!"

Then everything turns upside down...

_My life is filled with bickering, fights, and quarrels. _Legolas laughed inwardly,

As if he hadn't seen enough already.

He hadn't come all the way here to listen to them bicker over childish topics like races. He had to admit he didn't feel very pleasant when Gimli criticized the elves, but he couldn't care less. He didn't need to. Because before he had the chance to stand up, the other elves were already on the dwarf.

Their voices seem to slowly die down in his mind as Legolas turn away from the arguing council. He'd rather enjoy the scenery than listen to them.  
Rivendell was even more beautiful than he last remembered. The trees, the lush gardens, the airy sound of the voices of nature, it all seems like Rivendell was a living heaven. It may be that it has enhanced, but it may be also perhaps he had stayed away for longer than he imagined.

"Never trust an elf!"

It was that voice again, the dward Gimli, son of Glorin. Legolas grins at Gimli. _Typical brave dwarf, daring to even say that in the territory of Rivendell._ But the dwarf never seem to notice him. He had to admit he admired the dwarf's boldness and bravery, to be able to stand out when everyone in the council practically had sides of their own _but _him.

"Do you not understand that while we bicker amongst ourselves, Sauron's power grows?! None can escape it!" Gandalf cut in. And Legolas for a moment realize the wizard was right. If two parties fight amongst each other, the third one always gets the last laugh.

And Legolas make sure he was the third. He stood to confess a thought, but before he could, the little hobbit had spoken. "I will bring the ring! I will bring the ring!"

"But I do not know the way..." Legolas tensed. Should he volunteer to take the hobbit? The wizard seemed deeply fascinated by the hobbit. Legolas thought, if the difference of races wasn't so explicit, Gandalf might very often be mistaken as Frodo's father. The wizard make his way to the hobbit's besides and place a hand on his shoulder. " I will help you bear this burden, Frodo Baggins, so long as it is yours to bear."

The little hobbit smiled back, like a kid who looked as if his father had just bought him a candy.

_Even a strangers could be as close as father and son. Will_ _Father ever sees this?_

"If by my life or death, I can protect you..." the Ranger, which they now know as the long lost king of Gondor, spoke. "I will." He made his way to the center of the debating circle to Frodo and stood beside Gandalf. "You have my sword."

Gimli, of course, after that argument, wouldn't allowed to be left out in any of the action. "My axe slashes at your commands, lad."

One thing that kept Legolas' sanity was the justice he deeply believes. The chance to join the Fellowship was tempting, but he wasn't too sure about going... What if he never had the chance to come back?

_"And make sure you don't do anything to deign a person of your status." _His father's words trails back into his mind. King Thranduil thought his son as utterly a useless burden, and he didn't bother to hide it. _"And mine._" His fist tensed. He didn't have anything to lose, after all._ Maybe this is my chance, the chance to show my father I was never the useless son of which he spoke of.  
_

"And my bow is yours to whim." Legolas said before he could stop himself.

"You carry the fates of us all little one. If this is indeed the will of the council, then Gondor will see it done." That snotty Prince, or so, Legolas thought, stood up and spoke. Regardless how much Legolas doubted Boromir's alliance, he kept silent.

And till the day of his death, Legolas would never doubt his loyalty again.

* * *

_Farmers, farriers, carpenters, cooks, stable boys...  
_

_We're doomed.  
_

"Do they _even_ qualify the standards to set foot upon the battle field?" Legolas asked. "I question their power to guard even their personal safety, let alone the country."

In the last few months of traveling, Legolas never thought they'd ended up in this way - stuck, at a petty stronghold in the middle of Middle-Earth called Helm's Deep. Mountains sprouted up from its surroundings, leaving only one way out, so if they failed to keep the enemy out, they'd remain two choices - either a self-inflicted death, or wait for the enemy to kill you.

Aragorn stares at him through the crowds, giving him something between anger and a smile. "These are no soldiers, Legolas, you can't really expect anything from them at the last moment."

"Most have seen too many winters." Gimli cut in.

"Or maybe too few." Legolas commented and surveys the army. What chance do they have to win this fight? Three hundred against ten thousand, perhaps in a fairytale, some miracle might turn up. But in this case, it will not. And most of his part knew it. "Aragorn, we are warriors; they are not. What chance do you see we can win this fight?"

"It's hopeless..." The room fell silent as every single pair of eyes were on the elf. They _were _afraid, it's clearly written in their eyes, Legolas could see it and he doubt that Aragorn didn't. He couldn't help but almost pitied them. They hardly saw any orcs in their lives -consider the small portion who didn't even know what orcs are, and the elf couldn't picture the look on their faces when they see one- and now they were asked to win a battle which they were clearly overwhelmingly outnumbered.

Aragorn's gaze trained on him full-focus. "Do you know why I still declare this war despite we were outnumbered? Not because of Frodo, or avenging Boromir's death. It's because hope is the most powerful thing of all. The key lies not in the question of strength, it lies in the will." He snakes his way through the staring people and place a hand on Legolas' shoulder. "It's not all about three hundred versus ten thousand or ten thousand versus twenty thousand, it's all about belief." He'd expected Legolas to sigh and give in to his words, but instead, the elf was persistent. The next time he spoke, Aragorn's voice was small, like a little lamb who'd fall into a well and lost any hope of getting up. "I know it's hard, Legolas. But this is a war worth fighting. If I were to die tonight, I will die as one of them."

Legolas shook imperceptibly in bubbling anger, but it soon turn into a sigh of disappointment when he realizes who he was talking to. "I'm sorry Aragorn." He sweeps the man's hand off his shoulder and turns for the door leading outside Helm's Deep. "I trust you, and I trust your judgement. But as much as I detested to say," His hand grips the door knob firmly. "We didn't come this far to die."

* * *

It was midnight, the elf-prince found himself sitting at the edge of a cliff, gazing down into the water at his reflection. The night always soothes him, whenever he had arguments with his friends -not that he has many, only Aragorn, Gimli, Gandalf and the hobbits- Boromir on the other hand he had never been close to, and Legolas felt a little repent of not shading any tears when he died.

But nevertheless, it was the first time he'd see someone he was relatively close with pass away. He remembered how he and Gimli found a heartbroken Aragorn kneeling beside the dying Boromir, a dozen arrows inflicted into his abdomen, yet alive. He'd struggled with the pain for a while, as he spoke his last words to Aragorn, before he gave in. Legolas then was too stunned to say anything. He could've ran to his side, say some comforting words, help him minimize the pain, or even, help Boromir out of his misery.

But he just stood rooted to the ground, speechless, too shock to say anything aside staring at his dying acquaintance, as the King and his subject exchange their final conversation before they meet again on the other side. The moment Legolas saw how Aragorn could put down his everything for a friend, the elf decided to idolize this man. And he was right to do so.

The night was anything but beautiful. It used to, when Legolas was captivated inside his prison-cell of a palace. But this day, something feels definitely wrong.

"Pretty grim for a night, isn't it?"

Legolas jumps at the voice, it sounded terribly familiar, but terrifyingly eerie too. The reflection of him in the water blurs, as another, more distinct figure in white, appears behind him. Instinctively, yet tentatively, he jumps and turn around to see his visitor.

And there, standing just two meters away, was the last person he wanted to see.

_Saruman._

"Unwelcoming, I see." The evil white wizard greeted him. "Though, nights like these usually pleases me."

"Why are you here?" The elf-prince asks as though the wizard had not spoken. "This is the stronghold of Rohan, you are out of rights to be here before the battle begins." A hand reaches to the back of his shoulder, wrapping their fingers around an arrow. "You can leave now quickly, or I will find some guards to forcibly remove you from Helm's Deep."

But Saruman just laughs. "You think a few petty humans can defeat me that easily?"

"If you think you can defeat me single-handedly you might want to think otherwise." In a flash of moonlight, Saruman found an arrow already trained on his heart, threatening to fire if the owner wasn't please.

The wizard nods, unfazed. "Pretty impressive."

"Keep your deceiving words to yourself." Legolas cut him off. "I'm not addressed as the Master Bowman of Mirkwood for nothing."

"Ah, but I know you. You wouldn't kill me, not yet, until you have listen to what I have to say." He turns to the tower in Helm's Deep, the lights were still on, it was likely Aragorn was discussing with Gimbli and King Theoden about their battle strategies. Two seconds later, his focus was back on Legolas. "A meeting going on without our little princely elf?" The question was completely rhetorical, Legolas knew it, but he felt the affection it was giving him nonetheless.

"Your words means nothing to me."

"But Aragorn's does." Saruman grinned. "If otherwise, kill me, then your curiosity will never be at peace."

His hands froze, the arrow was still aiming at Saruman, but Legolas had lost every attempt to fire it.

"And looks like it already has." The wizard laughed. "Tell me, Legolas, what do you want?"

"Justice. Justice from you and Sauron! And-" The young elf stepped backwards -he wasn't sure why, but he did- and Saruman was edging closer.

"Don't stop, my prince. Tell me what you _really _want." Legolas remains silent, and the wizard laughs again. "You see, a pity. You set out on a mission to get what you want, without knowing what it is at first." He took another step forward. "But I can help. Join me, Prince of Mirkwood."

Legolas don't know whether to laugh or cry. This can't be possible. It can't be, and yet it was happening.

"I can give you what you want - jewelries, lands, tittle, fame, anything you ever wanted." Saruman persuaded, trying to dissuade the young prince to his side. "If only you would fight for me and provide us with all the information of Aragorn."

Legolas shut his eyes and focuses on his inner thoughts. _This is not happening, this is not happening. _Five seconds later, his saphire-blue orbs flickers open, his eyes narrowed. "But why _me?_" he demanded.

"I have the number of army I need -ten thousand orcs- yes. But what they lack is a brain. They need a leader, a captain prudent enough to guide them in war. And _you, _my dear prince, you have the perspective. You can see things the way others never can."

"Lies. You just need me to play your trumpets, and after I'd won the war you will banish me from these lands, worse even fed to the orcs. You think your little manipulative talk can work." Legolas sneers, "Now I'm telling you it's not."

Saruman laughed. "And I suppose you continue to shackle yourself to Aragorn is any better, hmm? They treat you well, yes. But what happens when your mission is done? When the ring is destroyed and Middle-Earth is restored? You will return to your old life -to your father- and your little escapade will turn back to the misery you always dreamed to be free of."

Tears were threatening to fall from those saphire-blue eyes. But Legolas never gave in. Instead, his eyes narrowed. "I see you've done your work before you came. You knew so much, even for only me. So I suppose the thickness of Aragorn's profile you have in your possession should be of a spellbook?"

"Tsk, tsk, tsk... Full of questions, but never any answers." Saruman shook his head. He took another step closer, and Legolas took another step back, only to find himself at the brink of the cliff. Saruman laughed. "Your journey has ended, look."

Legolas lets out a chilling laugh. "Your words are lies, all of them. I know what you are here for, and I know what you are up to." He poises into a fighting stance, "And I'll never let you get away with it."

He'd expect the wizard to strike him, or at least kill him for the sake of so he couldn't tell the others. He'd expected an instant death... _his death_.

But it never came.

Instead, the wizard gave him a dismissal wave of his hand. "Suit yourself."

Like a splash of water, Legolas suddenly realized what Saruman meant. "_What?_ You're letting me go? But why? I know all your secrets, I know you've been here, I know what you have planned and I am still standing here alive and I'll talk. Why not _kill _me?" He inches a step closer to Saruman. "I've made it clear enough I wouldn't be of any use to you." he practically screamed.

"Got a death wish, my prince?" Saruman laugh. "Whether I kill you or not, I know my bets are the odds. This war is absolutely needless." He walks closer. "Admit it, both of us _knows _who would win this war, even before it starts."

Legolas snarls, "Never. The war hasn't started, you have no right to say that, we have men as good as your orcs. We stood a chance to win this war as much as you do."

"Even a war of ten thousand orcs?" Saruman emphasized. "You're done for. I offered you a chance to the path of the living, but you denied it, I've no choice but to send you down the path of death." His hands were placed behind his, as he paces around the elf-prince. "It's a pity; really, that you've decided to surrender your highly undervalued skills to the ones who couldn't give you the attention and respect you clearly deserved."

Before departing, he drops something into the elf's extended palm. Legolas' eyes widened when he discern the little trinket was a brooch of Boromir's, it's color dull and pathetic just like it's departed master. "One last chance to join me, if you do not wish to end up like dear _dear _Boromir."

Legolas look really to explode, but he quickly recovered and pocketed Boromir's brooch. "Dream on, witch." Though he look emotionally unsteady, his voice was even and calm and authoritative. Saruman find it hard to hide his clearly impressed facial expression. "It takes more than just bribery and sweet talks to wheel me into your conspiracy." Legolas leaps down from the cliff towards Helm's Deep. Saruman expected him to just run towards the stronghold and never look back; but he was wrong. "And _please,_ stop your pathetic dreams of acquiring the ring." Legolas grins as he looks back once more and spoke darkly, his voice low and dangerous. "Because it was never yours to take."

* * *

It was raining. Legolas found himself shadeless; raindrops were dropping onto his head, he could feel it rolling down his skull, to his cheek, and finally dripping on his hair. He was soaked wet, a few hundred miles away from Helm's Deep. Away from Aragorn, from Gimli. Far away from the place he should be. He knew he shouldn't be here, yet he knew what he was doing.

"I knew you'd pick the right choice."

His gaze flew from left to right, finally stopping when it caught a flash of white clothing. "And I knew I was right to pick you."

"The one I serve is not you but myself. I fight against everything that is in my way. Aragorn is still your enemy, not mine." His words shocking not only the person he was talking to, but also himself.

"I care not about what you think. My only wish is that you bring back victory." Saruman sneers. " And should any failure occur, you shall receive the most severe punishment Sauron has in mind."

Legolas ignored him. Betraying Aragorn had already turn him against the good side; if he fails this battle, both good and evil will be after him. _You don't know what you're, Legolas..._

I do.

Even though his body is now presented at Saruman's, part of him still stayed with the Fellowship, the only true friends he'd ever came to known. Will Gimli be alright with his height, will he ever find someone to to reach up the ladder for some bread? Was Eowyn worried sick without him to soothe her that about the incoming war? Will Aragorn worry if he'd found out that Legolas was gone without a word?

But most importantly, what will Aragorn think when he _knew?_ Legolas _was _leading the Uruk-hai, and they'd have to confront in battle anyhow. What would Aragorn think of him? Will he burst with anger of his betrayal?

But Legolas couldn't care less now. He'd chose his path, there is no turning back.

If anything happens, he for one, will not regret.

"Are you ready, commander?" Legolas hadn't notice an Uruk-hai have walked up to him. It was the vice-in-charge. He practically wanted to puke at the stank this orc carries, but he manage to swallow it back down his throat. He noticed orcs have sharp ears, a semi-resemblance to the elves. He'd been told that orcs were once elves, but he didn't know what they screwed it up and turn into something so nasty. "Yes." He told the stinky orc, "Prepare to set out. March towards Helm's Deep full-force."

Legolas tightened his gloved hands around the barrier of Saruman's abode. He watches a hundred miles below at the army of orc -ten thousand orc to be exact- marching towards Helm's Deep. He couldn't believe the power he now held. The power to be only under one man and rule a thousand.

"I see your desire for authority and power is fulfilled." Legolas spun around to see Saruman grinning maliciously at him. He flinched. "Remember our deal, I am not your slave. And the Uruk-hai is mine to whim, you stand no place to give me orders."

"Yes. Yes." Saruman answers quickly, then smirk. "It is foolish to think otherwise..."

xoxox

Legolas stood on top of a high boulder, as the significant symbol of the leader of the army. He declared war. "Orcs of the battle, warriors of Murdor. Today is a battle we shall easily win. Your lives means nothing, irrelevant thoughts are rubbish, your only propose today is to win this war and kill all mankind!"

A series of roars follow his voice. As the Uruk-hai began stomping their feet on the ground.

Legolas caught the miniscule of version of Aragorn behind the walls of Helm's Deep. His expression shocked when he caught Legolas' distinct blond hair (it wasn't unusual for the elves to possess blond hair, but in a sea of orcs, who had no color but black, it really was clear to see the blond elf's position) Legolas knew anger was one feeling Aragorn will have when he saw him. But he never expected grief.

For a moment Legolas wished he could turn back time, but two seconds later, it was gone.

The orcs were still honking for war, Legolas spotted Haldir's elves taking position at the edge of Helm's Deep wall. _So Aragorn had help? _But the number of orcs still surpass them greatly, Legolas had nothing to worry.

When everyone had took their positions, they waited -for what, he didn't really know, but he waited- Rain was pouring down, it was almost impossible for Legolas to see his opposition anymore. But a few seconds later, an orc from the front row drop dead. The arrow came from the eastern wing of Helm's deep, fired by an inexperienced farmer.

And that was the lull before the storm.

"_Leithio i philinn_!" He heard Aragorn shouted, and he knew the war has begun. It struck him suddenly, why Saruman was so desperate before to get him - because he knew Aragorn's demeanor and his ways. Legolas had always been a keen observer, and Saruman must have seen that. The other reason is the fact that Legolas knew the Elvish language. Gimli never did.

"Kill at will." Legolas ordered. And that Uruk-hai from Saruman's abode transmitted his order in a language of its own. Slowly but surely, the sea of Uruk-hai began advancing toward Helm's Deep walls.

"_Hado i philinn_!" He heard more of Aragorn's orders, they sounded desperate. Bad news to Aragorn, but good news to Legolas.

"Faeg i-varv din na lanc a nu ranc."

Legolas flinches and shouts a warning to the Uruk-hai, "They're going for the necks and arms!"

As planned, the orcs placed two spiky looking bomb in a hole under Helm's wall, at the sluice gate - the only flaw to the great wall. "Go," Legolas ordered an Uruk-hai. "Make sure the fire gets to the bomb no matter what, even if it requires your life."

Moments later, there was a loud explosion. Helm's wall exploded into hundreds of pieces, boulder flew in the air, crushing and killing soldiers of both sides in the process. "No!"

The grin on Legolas' face spreads until it practically reaches his ears, the the gate of Helm's Deep explodes into a big hole, opening a huge hole for the Uruk-hai to penetrate into the insides of Helm.

"_Herio!_" It was Aragorn. And Legolas caught from the corner of his eye, Gimli rushing to Aragorn's aid. "Aragorn, no!" the dwarf Legolas had grown so close during his time in the fellowship leap down from a wall and fell in the space between of Aragorn and the small army of charging Uruk-hai.

Legolas shouted a command and maneuvers his warg. In the speed of lightning, Legolas was instantly leading the army of Uruk-hai into Helm's Deep, charging at the enemy, charging at Aragorn.

Barrages of arrows flew from the Uruk-hai, killing the few men who had unfortunately survive the early war. Legolas dislodges his double twin sword and began hacking men in his way as he goes, blood splash on his face like water. But Legolas wen on as if nothing happened.

Shrieks of the tortured souls of men splits the bloody night. The sky was as red as burning fire. vast streams of blood flow into the sewer. The sweat, blood and orc stench mixing in the air to form a distinct perfume.

Legolas never stop killing. He could've been in hundreds by now, but he'd lost count, because Gimli was never there to compete with him.  
Suddenly, his warg stops, and growls at the thing at its feet. Nonchalantly, Legolas bended slightly over to look. He felt no emotion when he discern it was a half-eaten body of Haldir.

"Retreat! Retreat!" Shouts from the men of Rohan split his silence. As Legolas turn to observe the situation, he caught sight of a certain plump carcase of a dwarf. It's head torn away, limbs broken, the abdomen was slit and organs tore out. Blood was messily over it. Legolas tips his head upwards, searching for something at the brink of Helm Deep's wall. And then he saw it - Gimli's head set firmly on a standing spear.

Legolas felt like he'd been kicked by a horse. Gimli had died...

He had been to caught up in his thoughts, when suddenly a spear spiraled its way towards him and kills his warg in one shot. Legolas tumbles to the ground, getting up swiftly two seconds later. He turns to see the origin of the spear.

And there, limping just two meters away from him, was Aragorn. "Legolas! How could you?!"

"I only stand on my own position." Legolas answers him, his voice emotionless and filled with disdain. The e;f began pacing around in circles, enjoying the sight of victory. "There is no black and white in war."

"Why Legolas, _why?_" Aragorn pleaded, limping towards the elf every second. "What did I ever do to deserve your betrayal? You were my closest friend!"

Legolas laughs darkly. "Pathetic. I have no friends, no loved ones."

Aragorn stares at like as though Legolas had two heads. "You will pay for all these destruction, you will pay for all the lives you've took, the fathers of the children you murdered!" He coughs out some blood at the end of his talk. "Gandalf will take you down!"

Legolas laughs darkly. "As to fulfill your last wish before you dies..." A dagger appears in his hand as he closes up the distance between Aragorn and him. "Saruman took him down personally this morning, and his last words were no less different than yours..." There was a sickening _crack_, as the dagger penetrates into Aragorn's heart, breaking the ribs that stood in its way. Two seconds later, there was another. A gust of wind picks up and blew by, Legolas shivers. He felt cold... and pain - the feelings that immortals were never destined to taste.

He grab the knife Aragorn had managed to plunge into his body before he died and pulls it out, releasing a long, ear-piercing shriek in pain as his eyes closed and everything falls into darkness...

* * *

Legolas sat bolted up. His throat dry. Little dried streams of tears on his face. He blinks once, then twice, and sweat began pouring down as the events of what he'd just experienced become clear - it was all a dream.

Yet not entirely - Saruman _had _visited him.

He was still sitting by the river bank, as memories of the war he virtually encountered flow back into his mind: His warg feasting on Haldir's corpse, Gimli's hacked body, plunging the dagger into Aragorn's stomach... _It all seems too real._ Legolas could hear his heart beating rapidly, as though it was screaming to jump out from his mouth.

The elf shook it all off. Then he figures Aragorn must have been wondering where the elf must be right now after disappearing for an entire night. He stood, and was preparing to leave when his foot kick something hard. Bending down, Legolas held up Boromir's brooch. He gaze at the trinket for a while, before he reaches out to the river and gently let it drop from his palm, his eyes caught the last glimpse of the shiny diamond embedded in the rusted old thing. It was a sign: _hope_. _We will win this war of Helm's Deep. _There was a assuring soft_spalsh, _ as the item hit the watery surface.

Realizing it was already dawn, the elf began walking back to Helm's Deep, whistling as he goes, never turning back to look at the water flushing Boromir's brooch down the river. That brooch was that of a noble man that exchanged his life for two, and now that he has move on, everything that belongs with him should, too.

Everything belongs somewhere, so does everyone.

And Legolas knew where he should.

* * *

**Author's Note : So do you like this one-shot? I've spend a desirable amount of time writing this and I hope it was worth it :) I'm have a little ending I wanted to add to this, it's about Legolas returning to his father after the Ring was destroyed. The problem is part of me wanted it to end here, and the other wanted at Thranduil. The self-debating is driving me crazy, so I need some help. Do review and tell me please, thanks!**

These are the elvish translated from the story, it not self-made, I took it from the transcript of the Two Towers, _enjoy!_

_Leitho i philinn_ - Release the arrows

_Hado i philinn _- Hurl the arrows

_Faeg i-varv din na lanc a nu ranc._ - Their armor is weak at the neck and beneath the arms.

_Herio_ - charge


End file.
